Heaven tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, and it would be hard if Society did not soften penitence to the Femme Galante.
The Lady Hilda did keep her Lent, and kept it strictly, and was never seen at the "sauteries," and rarely at the musical parties. But then everyone knew that she was dévote (when she was not slightly Voltairean), and it could not be expected that a woman going to reign in the vast world of London would put herself out to be amiable in Floralia. Yet, had they only known it, she loved Floralia in her own heart as she had never loved any other place upon earth. The beautiful small city set along its shining waters, with all the grace of its classic descent, its repose of contemplative art, its sanctity of imperishable greatness, had a hold upon her that no other spot under the sun could ever gain. If she thought others unworthy of it, she thought herself no less unworthy. It seemed to her that to be worthy to dwell in it, one needed to be wise and pure and half divine, even as St. Ursula herself.
And all the pride in her was shaken to the
